


Snape's Choice

by clare009



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death Fix, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after Harry leaves Snape to die in the Shrieking Shack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snape's Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Basically this was my reaction to Snape's death. Yeah okay.

The soft footfalls of Harry Potter faded into nothingness, and finally, Severus Snape released the Occlumency shields he had placed around his mind. The boy was gone, convinced he was dead.   
  
Snape knew he had lost a lot of blood. With agonising movements, his hand found his wand, and he gripped it as tightly as he could. Casting a silent spell, he felt some of the weakness leave him as a portion of the blood he had lost was replenished. With his other hand, he moved his fingers up to his neck to feel the wounds where the snake had bitten him. Already the skin there was cold. The bite was fatal, and he knew it. Already the cursed poison was spreading, sapping away the remains of his magical strength. If he could make it to St Mungo's, they might be able to reverse the spread of the curse. The problem was, he didn't think he had the strength left to do much more than lie in a pool of his own blood. Once the curse had stolen his very last magical reserves, he'd be defenceless. He would bleed to death on the floor of the shack that had haunted him from his youth. The Dark Lord had left him to die, knowing that none would bother to rescue him. And he, himself, had sent his last, small anchor to life off to do Albus Dumbledore's bidding.  
  
The cold now seemed to take him over, and he shivered uncontrollably. The wand he'd gripped so hard finally fell from his fingertips. Snape knew, that in trying to replenish his blood, he had only delayed the inevitable. The last gasps of breath that filled his lungs were pointless. Everything, his whole life, had been a lie and even in the end, he'd not been able to live up to his promise. He'd sent Lily's son to his death. In the end, he'd done exactly what Albus had told him to do and given the boy his memories. Albus had been a master of the art of coercion right up to the end, and Snape knew that once Potter knew what his fate would be at the hands of the Dark Lord, he could no more turn from it than Snape could now hold back the inevitability of his own death.   
  
In reality, he deserved this. He had always been alone, and he would die alone - nobody knew the truth that lay buried in the furthest recesses of his heart. And although they would discover it soon, he would be dead before anyone could acknowledge it. It was fitting, this lonely, cold death. Snape knew he had done what he could, knew that the Dark Lord would die along side Potter - many others would be saved. Albus Dumbeldore had had the greatest strategic mind that ever lived, even if he had not had much consideration for the emotional state of his peons. He saw the greater picture with a clarity that nobody, not even the Dark Lord, could fathom. What did it matter if Severus Snape died alone and ended up as nothing more than an intriguing footnote in Hogwart's a History? Snape had performed his part like a master, as always. Albus had used him to the very end, and now that he was spent, he would be tossed aside like an old rag-doll. Life would inevitably go on without him. And because, in the end, he could not save Lily's child, Snape knew that he had no reason to want to cling to life after all. He welcomed blessed oblivion.  
  
Black velvet darkness slipped over him as his blood leaked slowly from the wound in his neck. The icy curse had spread to nearly half his body by now and continued to inch over the rest of his body with relentless purpose. Snape no longer wished to fight it. The trembling in his limbs had ceased, and he felt his mind reel as he plummeted over the edge of consciousness and into the arms of the fate that awaited him.  
  
When he opened his eyes again, he felt light. The darkness receded, and Snape immediately rushed his fingers to his neck, only to feel that the gaping wound was no longer there. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light, and realised with a start that he was lying under a canopy of trees. Sunlight glinted in dappled spots through the branches as they swung lazily in the breeze. Snape shifted and sat up, his strength miraculously returned to him, and looked around him. Was this the other side of the veil?   
  
He was surrounded by a small copse of trees and bushes and the sounds of water drew his eyes to the river that lay just beyond the trees. He recognised this place. It was not far from his childhood home, the dreary house he had grown up in, and this was the secret place he and Lily had shared before...   
  
Except it was not. The air was cleaner, the light brighter, somehow. Although he could hear the river and the small indefinable sounds of nature, he could not hear the hum of humanity that should have echoed from the town and road that lay out of sight. This place was not real.  
  
Snape lay back down and looked up into the web of branches above him. He couldn't be sure if he was dead or alive. For all he knew, his mind had retreated into this fantasy in its last throes before death released him. Whatever the case was, it wasn't all that unpleasant. At least he felt whole. There was no more pain and the sunlight gently warmed him. He lay listening to the clicking of the branches and fell into a light doze. If this was the afterlife, he didn't mind it at all. Time, or the illusion of it in this place, slipped by as, for the first time in many, many years, he allowed himself to simply relax. It was an odd, liberating feeling, not knowing, or caring, whether he was alive or dead, having now found a place beyond anyone's reach. He would stay here forever, or for as long as this place allowed him to remain. There was no difference, really.  
  
The only unsettling thing to prick his mind was the fact that he would never see her again. Something inside him believed that he could never share the same afterlife as Lily Evans. No, make that, Lily Potter. For a long time, now, he'd forced himself not to forget that she was a Potter. His heart clenched at the thought, but he couldn't bring himself to hate himself for it. Not here. Perhaps if he lay here long enough, he could even forget that she ever existed, that they had once both shared the same reality.   
  
Snape felt the shadow fall over him even before he heard the crunch of a twig. His eyes snapped open. He bit back the groan that formed on his lips. There she was, as beautiful as ever she was in his memory, standing over him with that soft, knowing smile on her face. It was almost as if, by thinking of her, he had called her into being. It wasn't too much to hope that his peace could last for long, was it?  
  
With a flick of her long, red hair, Lily Evans Potter sank to the ground, cross-legged, beside him. Snape scooted back a little, sitting up in the process, and looked at his one-time friend, long-time unrequited love, with a scowl.   
  
She laughed at him, as carefree as ever. "I thought you'd be more pleased to see me, Sev," she said lightly.   
  
"Don't call me that," he said, as he scowled even more. "You know I hated it when you called me that."  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him. "As much as I hated you calling me Mudblood?"  
  
Snape winced. She'd cut right to it, hadn't she? He turned his head from her to avoid looking at the reproach in her green eyes. "I'm sorry for that. More than you can ever know."   
  
Her face turned sombre, and she reached out to place her hand on his. He prided himself on not flinching. "I know, my friend. You've paid for that over and over again. For that and everything else. You did what needed to be done... looked after my son... For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too, for what I did to you."  
  
Snape's head snapped up. "You've got nothing to be sorry for! It was my fault. All my fault. If it wasn't for me and my stupid arrogance, you would still be alive!"  
  
Her smile turned sad. "Do you really think that Voldemort would not have found me sooner or later? I was the one who was arrogant. You were my friend. I knew you were sorry for what you said, and however hurtful it was, I could have forgiven you - but I chose not to. I was too ashamed you see. I didn't want James to think..." She sighed and squeezed his hand. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." At the shaking of his head, Lily said, "No, don't even think that I do not share some of the blame in all this. For a long time, you've put me on a pedestal, Severus. From the moment I first met you, you could find no wrong in me. But I wasn't any better than you, or the others. We all have our weaknesses."  
  
Snape didn't want to accept her words as truth, but he knew she was right. He had always placed her in this impenetrable bubble, believing that nothing corrupt could ever touch her. It was part of the reason that her marriage to Potter had so disturbed him. Partly why he could never confess his own feelings to her. And then, after her death, he had idolised her even more. Every year she grew more and more perfect in his memory until nothing could shake his belief in her infallibility. It was what had kept him alive, that, and his promise to watch out for her son...  
  
"Oh God, Harry..." Snape yanked his hand away from her. "I sent him to his death, Lily. Would you forgive me for that?" he said, his lip curling into the sneer that had been his trademark for so long it had become an involuntary part of him.  
  
Lily looked away, up into the canopy of trees, and for a long moment, did not say anything. Snape wasn't sure if her eyes were glistening or if it was just a trick of the light. Then, Lily said, "You did what was right. Harry will see the truth. The rest is up to him."   
  
Snape felt anger flare into his chest. "He's just a boy! Dumbledore manipulated him..."  
  
"Did Albus Dumbledore manipulate you?" Lily said, turning back to look at him. "Did you choose to protect Harry because he made you do it?"  
  
"No. I... I did it for you." Snape said.   
  
"All of it? Everything you did, Severus? All for me?"  
  
Snape could only stare at her.  
  
"Returning to the Dark Lord, knowing that he could turn on you at any moment, you did that for me?" Lily shook her head. "And what about going through with Dumbledore's request to kill him? And then returning to the school, knowing how they all hated you yet keeping them safe. Was that for me? Or was that for Dumbledore?"  
  
"No!" Snape shook his head violently. "It was... I don't know."   
  
"Look at me, Severus," Lily said softly. "And stop doubting that you are a good man. You made each of those choices yourself, as difficult as they were. You could have refused, you know. Your promise to watch over Harry did not mean you had to sacrifice your own life for all the others. You chose that... Just as Harry will..."   
  
The hitch in her voice defeated him, and he slumped down.  
  
"I wish I had know the man you would become, Severus Snape. I know a little about love and sacrifice. But you always were competitive, weren't you?" She spoke softly, her fondness for him etched on her face. "You make my little sacrifice pale in comparison." She leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead. "You dear, dear man."  
  
She moved away from him, and Snape sighed. "I always loved you, Lily."   
  
"I know. And I'm sorry I did not return your feelings in the way you wanted me to."  
  
Snape nodded. He bit his tongue and hardened himself against the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.   
  
"You know that you will have to let me go," she said.   
  
"You won't stay with me?" He hated the desperate edge to his voice.  
  
Lily shook her head. "Not won't, Severus. I can't stay with you.   
  
He stared at her for a minute. "I don't understand."  
  
She smiled at him again, her green eyes deep and unfathomable. "I don't belong here. I think you will find that the fates have granted you a reprieve."  
  
Snape's eyes widened as the scene around him shifted. He felt the blood drain from his face. "What? No! I don't want..."  
  
"Your life is now your own, my friend," Lily said, even as her voice and the vision of her began to fade from his sight. "It won't be long before it is all over..." Their small copse, the secret place, began to fade, too, and Snape was left with a sinking feeling as he once more descended into blackness.  
  
And once more, he felt the cold, clammy floor of the shrieking shack beneath him. Snape opened his eyes and reality set it. He was still alive, but barely. He did not know how, or how many minutes, or hours, had passed as he had lain, unconscious, but his heart still fluttered weakly in his chest. He tried to move, and pain hit him like fire. Immediately, his fingers flew to the source of the pain - the fang wounds in his neck, and that's when he realised it. The curse had been lifted. For the first time since this whole ordeal had begun, Snape felt a spark of hope. The curse that had been spreading by increments through out his body and eating away at his magic had vanished. The snake had been killed. He was still as week as a kitten, but the thought buoyed him up and gave him the strength that he needed.   
  
His life was his own. She had said that. He didn't know if it would be a very long one, what with the fate of the Dark Lord as yet unknown to him, but Snape decided that for once in his life, he wasn't going to take any chances. He felt for his wand, which lay precisely where it had fallen out of his hand earlier, and grabbed hold of it like a lifeline.   
  
Then, he forced himself to stand, pure strength of will keeping the black spots in front of his eyes at bay, and, as he swayed unsteadily on his feet, he turned clumsily, and vanished with a loud crack from the Shrieking Shack.  
  
When the tight, squeezing sensation of Apparation left him, he was standing in front of a glass double door. He took two staggering steps, then fell, face first, onto the hard concrete floor in front of the door. A blast of air hit him as he felt the whoosh from the opening doors, and the sounds of excited, anxious people reached his ears.  
  
"Hurry, get him onto a stretcher."  
  
He felt strong hands lift him, and then he was on his back and lights flashed in front of his eyes as they wheeled him into the casualty ward. There was a blur of Muggle faces above him. Someone was inspecting the wounds at his neck.  
  
"He's been stabbed. Twice by the looks of it. Lost a lot of blood."  
  
They shone a light in his eyes.  
  
"Still conscious. I don't know how."   
  
"Sir, sir, can you hear me?"  
  
He could, but he couldn't answer. For the third time, darkness crept over him.  
  
"Pulse is erratic. He's going into anaphylactic shock."  
  
"We're losing him, we need the defibrillator..."   
  
The words became a jumble of sounds that lost all meaning. He hoped he had made the right choice, because he knew that from now on, he was going to have to live with it. Without regret, he let consciousness go, at least for now, and let the Muggle doctors and technicians do their job.


End file.
